


a gentle push

by beneaththemassk



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Bottom Goro, Breeding Kink, Elevator Sex, Feminization, First Time, Forced Feminization, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Making Out, Rimming, Soft sex, Teasing, Top Akira, feminine terms used for goro, hand holding, shuake gets taken to eeby deeby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29428494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beneaththemassk/pseuds/beneaththemassk
Summary: A suspicious elevator in Maruki’s palace leaves Akira and Goro with more than they bargained for, but they come out of it closer than before.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 14
Kudos: 199





	a gentle push

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arukana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arukana/gifts).



> Written for Valentine's day as part of a gift exchange! I hope you like your gift [arukana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arukana) and have a wonderful Valentine's xoxo!

_“Is this really it?”_

Cue Goro, as snippy as ever. 

“Uh-huh. My readings show that this is a dead end, and the only way forward is up that elevator,” Futaba confirms.

Akira can hear the uncomfortable shifting of feet behind him. 

“But…” 

“That elevator is sus as hell,” Ryuji says. 

“Well, yes. It’s just what we can expect from Maruki.” 

The voices blend together into background noise, it’s hard for Akira to really tell who’s saying what. 

It’d be fine, if this elevator was a normal one, but it seems as a general rule in Akira’s life nothing can be normal. He’d read the sign stating the entrance conditions over and over again, trying to see if there’s some hidden loophole. 

_One male and one female must enter the elevator to proceed._

Akira, for the life of himself, can’t deduce what Maruki would want to do with the thieves based on that information.

“I’ll go,” Akira volunteers. It’s almost a given, at this point, that he’d rather put himself in risky situations in place of one of his friends. 

“Now we just need a girl to go with him,” Futaba says. 

Akira looks back at the group, and the apprehension was clear on the girls’ faces. Who would willingly want to go inside a small, shady elevator within the palace of madman? 

Goro clicks his tongue. “We don’t have time to stand around like this.” He bounds forward impatiently, pushing the button to open the elevator door. 

“Hey—hey! We still haven’t decided—” Futaba protests futilely, but ultimately can’t stop Goro from stepping into the elevator. 

“I’ll be the girl,” he says with a sense of finality.

To everyone’s collective shock, the text on the sign stating ‘one female’ lights up, indicating that the requirement was fulfilled. 

Ann gasps. “ _Crow,_ how did you know that’d work?” 

Despite his earlier boldness, the barely-there stiffness in Goro’s body shows that he’s perplexed as well. 

“I didn’t, but… _surely_ the mechanisms of this palace can’t be so complex as to be able to determine my biology.” 

“Wouldn’t it, though?” Futaba asks. 

No one seems to know.

“Anyway, once you guys get out of the elevator, my readings show that there’s a hidden entrance to this room that you can only open from the other side,” Futaba explains. “It should be easy to find, but I’ll be in direct communication with you guys regardless.” 

“Alright,” Akira agrees. It’s simple enough. 

He makes his way towards the elevator, and as expected, the text reading “one male” lights up as well, both of the requirements to travel the elevator finally having been met. 

“Seriously, guys, let us know if something goes wrong! Like, don’t get crushed to death in there or anything!” Ann calls out, reassuring as ever. 

Akira gives the team a salute, and presses the button for the next floor up. The elevator doors slide closed, enclosing him and Goro in a small cube. He can feel it in his gut when the elevator begins to ascend, as if being able to sense changing elevation was a natural instinct. The floor underneath rumbles gently.

“Hope you’re not claustrophobic, girly,” Akira says, tacking on the last part as a reference to earlier, just to piss off the other boy. 

“If I was, I wouldn’t have been so eager to throw myself into here.” 

Fair point. “Why did you? It said only one boy and one girl could enter.” And it still amazes Akira how Goro got around that. 

“I figured, out of everyone here, what I do now matters the least once Maruki is defeated.”

Akira bites down on the tip of his tongue. All in that moment he doesn’t know whether he wants to punch Goro, or kiss him, or maybe both in that order. 

Akira can faintly see the grim smirk hidden beneath Goro’s helmet. 

“You know I’m right,” Goro says. 

_Doesn’t mean I have to like it,_ Akira thinks, and nearly voices his thoughts, but isn’t able to as the moving elevator comes to an abrupt halt. The unexpected stop causes both boys to stumble on their feet, almost toppling on top of each other if they hadn’t caught themselves on the walls. 

_“Of course,”_ Goro hisses. 

“It’s fine,” Akira reassures him, though mostly to reassure _himself._ “We can find a way out. Oracle? _”_

No response. 

“ _Oracle?_ Can you hear me?”

Still no response. Anxiety finally begins to claw at Akira’s stomach. He laughs, purely out of sheer nerves. “I can never seem to use my phone in elevators. Maybe this is similar.” 

Akira looks back at Goro to see if he finds his joke funny. Of course, it doesn’t seem like it. Goro doesn’t even say anything, or move, he just sort of gives Akira this unidentifiable look. He then draws his sword, and Akira has to take a step back to avoid the aimless motions of the jagged blade. 

Goro grunts when his sword makes impact with the door, and his feet grind against the floor as he tries to drive the blade in between the tight gap in the middle. He does this once, twice, three times, then determines that the door won't budge, and resolves to draw out his gun instead. 

“Hey!” Akira jumps to take action, gripping his hands into the meat of Goro’s arm and lowering it. “What if the walls are bulletproof? The bullet would recoil.” 

“Fine. I don’t suppose you have better ideas.” 

Akira’s temples throb. “Let’s just think about it first.” 

Trying to physically pry open the door was actually Akira’s first and only idea, though Goro doesn’t need to know that.

Looking around hardly gives Akira any clues. The walls and floor seem to be made out of the same material—white, sterile, clean and with vague shine—it’s very clinical. And likely very indestructible. There’s a button panel besides the door, hosting the button to move up a floor and—

“Wait, there’s an emergency button. See?” Akira says. 

“Ah,” Goro lets out a light breath, and an unspoken _why didn’t I see that first of course I knew about the button_. “I suppose there’s no harm in trying, but I doubt it’d do anything.”

Akira pushes it, and for a few seconds nothing really does happen. But then the main lights cut out, and much dimmer lights flicker on. Likely the emergency light supply.

“This isn’t that bad,” Akira says before Goro can make another remark. 

Both boys jump as a previously hidden panel on the wall brightly flashes to life, and the floor slides out under them to be replaced by a mattress-like material. 

The words _Good evening_ are typed out across the screen, letter by letter.

“It’d be a good evening if we weren’t stuck in here,” Goro says. 

“Be nice to the elevator,” Akira mumbles. 

_As the years progress, our country’s birth rate has met a growing decline,_ the screen says. _This has been known to contribute to a collective stress concerning the future shared by our society. Who will be the ones to build our nation, if there’s no one here?_

_Having children has been scientifically proven to result in a closer emotional bond between couples, as well as an overall increase in oxytocin in the brain._

_To contribute to the collective happiness of society, you’ve been chosen to participate in the sacred ritual shared by couples that is the conception of a child._

_Unwilling participants will unfortunately be eliminated._

Something clicks in Akira’s head. “So that explains the requirement to get in here.” 

“But we’re both men, there’s… there’s no conceivable way anyone is getting pregnant. Do you hear me, elevator?” Goro bangs a fist against the screen, and the screen transitions into a progress bar showing that whatever progress they’re at is at zero percent. He bangs even harder. _“Hey!”_

Whatever _this_ is, is nowhere near anything on Akira’s list of expectations. On the bright side at least the floor is comfortable. 

But they couldn’t just sit around here for eternity because… 

_Unwilling participants will unfortunately be eliminated._

This sucks.

This really, really sucks. 

There is no way they’re getting out, because the elevator is asking for what’s physically impossible. Maybe if Akira airs his thoughts out, then they could figure out a way to escape. “So, we can’t physically pry the doors open, we can’t communicate with the team, and unless we… meet the conditions—we’ll be eliminated.” 

“That much has been obvious, yes.” 

Oh, they’re so screwed. 

“What do you think it means by elimination?” 

“Something tells me this palace isn’t above dropping us to our deaths while we’re stuck inside this box.” 

The very thought makes Akira’s skin crawl. “That would be bad.” 

Though, at this point Akira isn’t really sure what he’s more concerned about; their precarious situation in the elevator, or the waves of agitation radiating off of Goro. Perhaps Goro would deliver a swifter death than the elevator could. And yet, he did still volunteer himself. 

“I just don’t understand one thing,” Goro says. 

“What?” 

“What kind of mechanism this elevator is using to determine whether we meet its _“requirements”_. It seems flimsy at best, considering that I was let on even though I was bluffing. It’s superficial.” 

Right, it didn’t make sense. Palaces always seemed to have supernatural abilities to just _know_ things that shouldn’t be possible. Yet this rule was being disregarded entirely. 

Goro crosses his arms (when are they _not_ crossed, these days?) and he angles his head towards the screen. “I believe our best bet on getting out is filling that progress bar.” 

“Progress until what, though?”

 _“Don’t,"_ Goro seethes, “make me say it.” 

Akira chuckles. He knew what Goro was getting at and yet still couldn’t resist the urge to push his buttons. “So if we _bluff_ about either of us getting pregnant, then maybe we can get out.”

“I’m willing to try anything that’s not dying in this hellish box. I can already feel it getting warm in here.” 

“Right. So it’s kind of like… roleplaying.” Akira finds himself at a loss for words, not knowing where to even start with this, not knowing how to even treat Goro in this moment without making it weird, and it’s clear that Goro doesn’t know either from his silence. “Ah, Goro-chan, my beautiful wife,” Akira sings. 

_“What.”_

Maybe Akira is making this a little weird. Maybe there’s no way to avoid this. 

And yet, it works? Sort of? Because now the progress part has progressed to two-percent for some god awful reason. Akira points a gloved finger, and Goro follows the motion with malice in his eyes. 

“I didn’t agree to be _your wife,”_ Goro says in a harsh whisper. 

“Didn’t you earlier?” 

“Yes—well—that was _earlier,_ this is _now.”_

“But it’s working, just—roll with it. I want to get out as much as you do.” 

Goro huffs. Luckily their bickering hasn’t affected the progress bar negatively like Akira feared it would.

“I’ve been away at work all day, but you’re still just as beautiful as ever,” Akira says. 

Three-percent.

Goro _snorts_ at that, and maybe Akira’s being hopeful but he swears he heard a laugh underneath it. 

The progress bar was just barely going anywhere, but Akira feels like he needs to give what he’s about to say a shot. Even though he can play it off as a joke, and that it’s just to get out of the elevator—his heart pounds, and his hands are clammy and sweaty. 

“I’m so excited about—our baby. The baby that’s on the way.” 

No progress.

“Because you took a pregnancy test and you’re pregnant.” 

Still no progress. 

“Are you kidding?” Goro says. “No one would believe that. You sound too nervous.”

_Because I am!_

“Akira, _dear,_ I have something I need to tell you,” Goro says. His voice, absolutely devoid of emotion.

The implication of the words still makes Akira’s pulse skyrocket. “Yes, honey?” 

“I’m pregnant.” 

“O-oh.” Akira feels like he’s going to explode. 

Still no progress. 

“You’re kidding,” Goro says, and Akira isn’t sure who it’s directed at.

“You’re—” Akira gasps, unable to hold his hysterical laughter, “you’re just as bad! What was that?!”

“Excuse me?!”

“ _I’m pregnant,”_ Akira mocks. “You didn’t sound excited at all.” 

“Because—I can’t get pregnant!” Goro laughs. 

Akira feels so much better seeing Goro laugh like that. It’s so rare to come across recently, and still, even despite the absurdity of their situation that’s causing it, the laugh is still genuine. The air must surely be getting thinner in the elevator, resulting in them both going light headed. And the space is so small too, maybe claustrophobia can be a latent condition. There’s no way they’re not going crazy right now.

The screen flashes once more, not to signal any change in progress, but instead to display some text. 

_Tip: impregnation can only occur through sex._

“This elevator must think we’re stupid,” Goro says. 

“No, I think it wants us to…” Akira trails off, suddenly unsure of what he was saying. The elevator wants them to do _what?_ It was at the tip of his tongue, and still… 

“The elevator wants us to have sex.” Goro deadpans. 

Akira’s throat tightens, unable to say anything. Is that what it wants? Would it even _work?_ Their bluffing earlier _didn’t,_ and still, neither of them can get pregnant either. 

And Akira was undoubtedly attracted to Goro, in all aspects imaginable. Of course he wants to have sex with Goro. But would Goro want that himself? Does Goro like Akira in that way? Or was he just lonely, starved for affection, was that why he acted the way he did with Akira? Akira saw so much in Goro, but what would Goro see in him, if anything at all?

Akira can’t continue his runaway train of thought, one surely destined to collide and explode, because Goro’s helmet makes a heavy landing right next to him onto the plush ground. 

“Stop thinking, you’re hurting yourself,” Goro says. 

Akira frowns.

“I don’t _like_ being forced to do things out of my own volition. That doesn’t mean I’m so stubborn that I wouldn’t… put other’s well-beings over what I want. I won’t do it anymore, Akira.” 

“No,” Akira shakes his head, and it’s clearly not the reaction Goro was expecting. “Whatever you do, do it for yourself too. You—you matter.” _You mean the world to me._ “I want to do it, but only if you do too. What do you want?” 

Their talk is affecting Goro in some way, if the flush glowing on his unobscured face is anything to go by. He doesn’t say anything for a while, just closes his eyes and breathes. As if choosing whether to live or die was such a monumental decision for him. Maybe it was. 

When Goro stands up, the shift in weight warps the mattress-like material under them, and Akira can feel it even from where he’s sitting. Goro takes a few short stomps to reach Akira’s location, his footsteps muffled by the ground. 

All Akira can do is _feel,_ because what’s happening to him in the moment doesn’t make any sense. 

He can feel the weight of Goro roughly plopping down over his lap, as if he fainted and fell, except he holds himself up just barely over Akira’s thighs. 

He can feel the sharp talons of Goro’s gauntlet scrape against the back of his skull when Goro takes in a fistful of his hair, and it stings when Goro pulls his head back. 

Before he feels Goro’s lips, he feels the hard bone underneath his soft skin colliding with his own skull and teeth.

And _then_ he feels the other boy’s lips. So smooth, so plush, so hot against his own, burning from within and threatening to spread to Akira himself. 

It’s all of Akira’s past few months in this one single moment, all the nights he spent hiding in the bathroom at Leblanc with only his hand, except this is nowhere near what he could imagine. Most certainly he never imagined the elevator, but before— _Maruki—_ he’d imagine a bashful Goro, giggling airily and accepting his chaste kisses. And then after, he’d imagined himself shutting up a brash Goro with his own lips. 

But this—this was closest to the real Goro he’d get. Hesitant from inexperience, but determined, and it felt so good. 

Goro’s lips move the slightest bit against his own, and Akira honest to god _groans._ It was barely anything, just the tiniest fraction of sensation, but it lights a fire in his gut. 

When Goro pulls back, he gasps for air like he was holding his breath the whole time, and he likely was. He’s never looked so alive before, with his flushed face and full lips and the hungry look in his eyes. 

“Nine-percent,” Goro says. 

“Oh,” Akira breathes. So kissing got them at nine-percent. 

He thinks he wants to do it again. 

Akira finally removes his mask and leans in once more, nearly falling into Goro from the way the floor shifts as he moves. 

Goro kisses like he doesn’t know how to, but has been starving for it his whole life. It’s all push and pull with him, and Akira let himself be rocked around by the other boy, both their lips moving in tandem but not going any further than that. 

Akira—he needs to reign it in a little bit, because Goro was a mad bull about to run himself off a cliff straight into exhaustion. Akira slides off his own gloves and tosses them to the side, and he grips Goro’s own hair in return. 

It’s the best thing Akira’s ever touched. It _was_ as soft as it looks, and even better when Akira trails his fingers down towards the nape of Goro’s neck, where his fragile baby hairs lie. He tugs at it, gently, and Goro whines needily into his mouth. 

That placates Goro for a bit, like a kitten picked up at the scruff by their mother. When they pull away Akira sees how Goro’s brows are furrowed, and his eyes glazed over, and it’s all the opening he needs to lick over Goro’s lips and pry into his mouth with his tongue. 

The little ‘ah’s Goro lets out drive Akira insane. The other boy is unable to hold in those sounds because _Akira’s_ tongue was in his mouth, because _Akira_ was stroking all his sensitive spots he never knew he had. 

Akira’s body is all too happy to be kissing Goro—every inch of his skin practically burns, and it’s becoming much too hot to be wearing what he is. He strips off his jacket and adds it to the ever-growing pile of garments. 

“No sleeves,” Goro says.

Akira would think that Goro would be saying it to deride him, if not for the way his eyes were fixated on his arms. It’s pretty obvious to Akira that his undershirt didn’t have sleeves, but he supposes no one else would know unless he actually showed it. “Yeah?” 

“Somehow even the design is cocky. It suits you.” 

Akira wordlessly tackles Goro to the ground, pinning him down. “I’m starting to think you say these things just because you want to push my buttons.” 

Goro grins, baring all his white teeth. “Oh, really now?” he purrs. 

Twelve-percent. Even with all the kissing. Well, progress is progress. 

“You have no room to talk. Your outfit isn’t any better either,” Akira says. “It’s extremely inappropriate, in my opinion. It’s so— _thin_. You can see _everything._ And all those _belts,_ Goro.” 

“So what? It’s only a problem if you’re looking at places you’re not supposed to be. What? Have you been _looking at me,_ Akira?” Goro says it like a challenge. 

No way Akira couldn’t _not_ look at Goro prancing around in a skintight bodysuit. “You really don’t know how irresistible you are,” Akira admits. And now Akira has Goro right under him, and the urge to just _touch_ is strong, his hands hover over Goro’s chest, but the fear of overstepping boundaries stops him from going any further. 

“Ah,” Goro breathes. He looks at Akira’s hands, and even with his eyes lidded over it doesn’t go unnoticed how his pupils blowout at the praise. Goro lifts his own hands, still covered by his sharp gauntlets, and trails them down Akira’s arms, feeling out all the lean muscle and gripping Akira’s wrists once reaching the end. “So honest,” he says. “I know what you want. Go on,” he punctuates by guiding Akira’s hands to touch his chest. 

Whatever made Goro get so cocky—Akira’s not complaining. Goro _wanting_ Akira to touch him makes all his blood rush south, and he realizes belatedly that there’s quite a lot already there to begin with. His erection strains against his underwear, and he’s thankful his baggy pants more or less hides it. 

Being able to finally touch Goro the way he wants to only makes Akira harder, his head so light from the mix of chemicals swirling in his brain and the lack of blood. Supple is an accurate term to describe the way Goro’s body feels—not quite soft, because the muscle the other boy has built is undeniable, but not to the point of becoming hard. 

Akira cups his hands over Goro’s pectorals and is delighted in how full they feel against his palm. “These would be full of milk, if you were pregnant,” Akira says, but it’s more of him thinking aloud than anything. 

“What are you saying,” Goro seethes. “They—there’s no way that’s happening.” 

“Think about it, though. That’s what the elevator wants,” Akira says. “Try to imagine it and maybe it’ll help with the progress.’

Akira rubs over Goro’s pecs over the fabric to help him think, and the friction causes Goro to groan and wriggle his hips under Akira, which was becoming _way too dangerous—_

But _oh._ Goro is hard, too—his full erection outlined under the material of his bodysuit, making the fabric to tent. 

A spike of unbearable lust drives Akira to bear his hips down and grind his clothed cock against Goro’s own.

 _“Please,”_ Goro moans. 

Akira could cry. Goro is so beautiful, sounds so beautiful—Akira’s cock throbs helplessly at it all. He keeps rocking his crotch against Goro’s, hands still over his chest, and Akira gets an idea. With his thumbs he feels the smooth latex of Goro’s outfit for the twin bumps he knows are there, and when he finds them he pinches. Goro _screams_ at the assault on his nipples. _“No!_ Not there _—stop—”_

“Your tits are so sensitive,” Akira sighs happily. He says it for the sake of convincing the elevator, but—oh no, he thinks he’s a little bit into it. He thinks he could sit here and play with Goro’s body all day.

“Don’t call them that!” Goro cries. Despite his words, his hips buck up and his cock twitches under the tight latex. He weakly grips at Akira’s wrists. “Stop, you need to stop— _ah,_ ” he gasps. His whole body tenses, back arching off the ground, his face is so red, and he lets out choked whimpers in between his pants.

Akira _does_ stop now, out of consideration for Goro’s strange behavior. His body finally relaxes, sinking into the plush ground with a thud. He looks utterly debauched, with his hair somehow becoming a mess from simple grinding, and his pink lips part as he lets out heavy breaths. 

Then, Akira discovers the cause of Goro’s behavior: the wetness slowly spreading at his groin. 

Suddenly Akira feels very, very giddy. “You came. You came from me playing with your tits?” 

Goro shakes his head weakly, and Akira can’t tell if it’s in confirmation or denial. Regardless of his answer—the proof is right there. Goro throws an arm over his eyes, presumably out of shame. 

It’s too much, Goro’s way too hot and he doesn’t even fucking know it. Akira squeezes his cock through his pants to relieve some of the pressure, and he finds Goro watching with an expression that can only be described as hungry. 

Akira knows that if it were himself, it’d be all over the moment he comes. “Goro. Can you… keep going?”

“Who do you think I am?” He answers by beginning to unbutton his suit, slowly, tauntingly. 

Even with the buttons coming undone, Akira was hardly seeing as much as he wanted; the suit was practically suctioned to Goro’s skin. Was Goro trying to tease Akira? Because he wants to rile him up? That’s fine, then. Akira can take matters into his own hands. He pulls open the rest of Goro’s suit for him, all the rest of the buttons coming undone in a symphony of satisfying snaps. 

Goro gasps. “Excuse me.” 

“You’re excused,” Akira says. He can finally see the mess Goro had made earlier. He was completely smooth around his soft cock, and covered in his own cum. Akira’s mouth waters at the sight, all parts of Goro just looked so delicious.

He leans down, pulling the opening of Goro’s suit further apart, and sucks a patch of skin right above Goro’s collarbone. Goro’s hands fly to grip at Akira’s head, the pointy ends of his gauntlet digging into his skull like a warning. Goro’s skin tastes salty initially, and then sweet as Akira continues sucking. It’s completely unfair how perfect Goro is. “You—what are you, a leech?” Goro says. 

Akira unlatches himself, satisfied to see the bruise he left. God, he wants to mark Goro everywhere, claim him, let everyone know that he’s taken. “I’m your leech now,” he says. 

Goro huffs and his lips quirk up just the smallest bit. 

“Your clit is so cute,” Akira marvels. It really was—small and smooth and somehow very befitting for Goro. Even as soft as it is, though that would have to change soon. 

A sharp knee strikes Akira in his side, which ow, kind of hurts. He’s sensitive there. 

“What. Why. Are you calling it that?” Goro asks.

Akira laughs. “You’re my wife, remember?” 

They were at thirty-percent now. Akira has to keep this up.

“Can I play with your clit, Goro?” 

“Shit—fine. Do whatever,” he breathes out. 

Akira grasps Goro’s cock in between his thumb and index finger, pinching lightly to feel how spongy it is. Akira wonders briefly if Goro’s skincare routine extended to even _down here_ , with how flawless his skin was. 

He begins to slowly jerk the other boy’s cock with his two fingers. Goro twitches whenever Akira gets close to the head, seemingly oversensitive there from his earlier orgasm. Akira’s own erection aches, but he’d wait as long as eternity of that meant Goro kept letting him explore his body like this. 

Goro’s cock soon begins to harden and flush with the blood flowing through it. He wasn’t very big to begin with, and he barely grows getting hard either. If Akira had to guess, he’d say Goro’s cock is about half the size of his own. The observation sends a hot thrill running through his body. 

“You seem confused down there, Akira,” Goro taunts, “taking your sweet time figuring things out. Are you perhaps inexperienced?” 

Akira blows a gust of air at the tip of Goro’s cock. “You got me. You’re my first,” he admits. 

“Oh. Am I, now?” Goro looks genuinely pleased, smiling down at the man holding his cock in his hands. “I can’t say that you’re not my first as we— _ah,”_

With his fingers, Akira pulls Goro’s foreskin away from his head, and with his tongue he licks the rosy tip. Definitely salty. Salty and bitter. 

When Akira looks up, Goro has his hand covering his mouth. He looks like the perfect picture of demurity, like his bravado from earlier had just flown out of a window, all because his cock was being licked. 

“Your clit tastes so delicious,” Akira says, and it comes out throatier than he intends it to.

Akira checks the screen, and his eyes widen at the “forty-percent” staring back at him. They never made such a great amount of progress in a short amount of time before. Did it have to do with the way Akira was speaking to Goro...? 

Akira breathes out a gust of hot air. He knows that he’s into guys, and he knows that Goro is a guy, so why did treating him like a girl make him feel so hot?

It’s too much to think about, right now. Akira wants to focus on getting this damn suit off of Goro. As if blessed by a higher being, Akira notices the buttons extend even further, going towards as far as where Goro’s tailbone was. He pops them open, spreading Goro’s legs apart all the while. 

God, the sight Goro makes… 

His rim was pink and _twitching,_ like it wants to invite Akira in. 

Akira groans, suddenly lightheaded. “You’re so wet, babe. Does your pussy want me to lick it? I want to eat you out so bad,” he says, emboldened by how arousing Goro looks 

“Jesus, _fuck—!”_ Goro bites on his gauntlet. 

His cock twitches, and it’s all the invitation Akira needs to bend down and lick a stripe down the heated flesh. He gets to the base of Goro’s cock, and then his balls, swirling his tongue around the taut sacks. They were small and soft and smooth, much like Goro’s dick—unbearably cute in Akira’s mind. He can’t help but place a kiss against them, feeling Goro’s hips jerk up in response.

Akira noses at Goro’s perineum, and tilts his head so he can get a better angle to lick Goro’s hole at. He sticks his tongue out sheepishly, getting a taste of the ring of muscle, and it tastes just like the rest of Goro’s body does; undoubtedly clean yet bitter. 

Goro gasps out an _oh!_ at a harder press of Akira’s tongue, a rougher swipe, and it’s obvious how he’s seeking for _more_ when he grinds his hips down.

Akira pulls away to breathe. “Does your pussy feel good?” he asks. 

“I _really,”_ Goro hisses, “wish you would drop the act.” 

Ah, how unfortunate for Goro, because Akira doesn’t want to. He hikes Goro’s legs up to rest on his shoulders, and moves his head in like he’s _going_ to continue licking Goro, but—

“I won’t continue unless I know you want this. Tell me you want me to lick your pussy,” he says. 

Goro gestures aggressively at his hard dick. “Isn’t it obvious? Do you really need my permission?” 

_“Bad girls,”_ Akira says, poking a finger against Goro’s rim and rubbing at it in circles, “don’t get fucked.” 

Goro throws his head to the side and his mouth opens in a barely-there moan, acting like he’s coming from Akira’s words alone.

Akira pushes in Goro’s rim, but barely, but enough to get the tip of his finger in. “Be a good girl, Goro-chan. Tell me what you want me to do.” 

Goro looks at Akira with unfocused eyes, his expression borderline pleading and annoyed at the same time. “Please—lick my pussy,” he grits out. 

Akira withdraws his fingers and delivers a light slap to Goro’s thigh. “Good girl.” 

It’s easier with Goro’s legs on his shoulders for Akira to stick his tongue out and swirl it around the other boy’s rim. He keeps pressing in teasingly, like he’ll breech the entrance with his tongue, but withdraws each time. 

It’s only when Goro gets impatient and bears down that Akira’s tongue enters Goro’s hole, and he chuckles, letting the vibrations travel through Goro’s sensitive nerves.

It must feel good for Goro, going off of his hums and gentle moans, and Akira wishes he could get the other boy to be louder. Goro rocks against Akira’s tongue, which he’s sticking as far as he can now. The motion is _dirty,_ almost as if Goro were mimicking something else.

The hole around Akira’s tongue quivers more the more he snakes his tongue inside it. Surely it’s not enough for Goro, not enough to reach his prostate and be enough for him to come. With his lips Akira kisses Goro’s rim and sucks as an act of finality, pulling away with a wet pop.

Servicing Goro had kept Akira distracted enough from his own need, but now he thinks his dick is going to burst. 

Fifty-five-percent. 

Akira pants from the lack of oxygen. “Goro, I… I don’t have a condom.” 

Goro lifts his head to level a stare at Akira. His bangs are slightly damp with sweat. “What? It doesn’t matter, we’re both virgins so we’re clean.” 

“Yeah, but,” Akira begins, completely unsure at how he’s still keeping his composure. “If I come in your pussy you’ll get pregnant.” 

He entirely expects Goro to jab at him where he’s softest again, or say something derogatory. 

“That’s the goal, isn’t it?” he says instead. “If I get pregnant we can leave.” 

Sixty-five-percent. 

Akira is suddenly aware of the sweat at the back of his neck, and how it feels like he can’t breathe.

Goro sits up and climbs into the other boy’s lap, and wraps his arms around Akira’s neck. Akira feels Goro’s chest press against his, both their hearts thundering in unison. Goro’s breath is hot against Akira’s ear, and it sends electricity down his spine, goosebumps spreading across his whole body. 

“Come on, Akira,” Goro says into his ear. “I want your dick inside me. Make me pregnant.” 

This whole situation is entirely unfair. 

Akira clambers at the waistband of his pants, pulling it down along with his underwear in order to release his sorely neglected cock. He’s completely wet from his own precum, and the air against it feels cold. 

Quickly, he reaches into his coat pocket and retrieves relax gel to coat his dick in it, acting as a makeshift lubricant. 

“I like you. I like you so much that it hurts,” he says, lining up the head of his cock with Goro’s rim. 

“I know,” Goro says. Feeling the head of Akira’s cock tease him, he slowly lowers himself onto it. “You’re so obvious.” 

Akira groans at the sheer tightness of Goro’s rim enveloping only the head of his cock. If this is how it feels, then he thinks he might die before they finish. 

Goro continues breathing shakily into his ear, enveloping Akira’s cock inch by inch with his vice-like body. He hadn’t been stretched enough, so it burns, but the burn was satisfying in its own right. 

“Good girl,” Akira says once more, once his cock bottoms out in Goro, and he rubs soothing circles against the other boy’s lower back. 

“Fuck. Why are you so big,” Goro groans. 

Akira laughs, and groans himself when he feels Goro tighten around his cock. “I can’t really move my hips, I think you have to—”

Akira doesn’t get to finish speaking, because Goro gets the message and immediately bounces on Akira’s cock and _fuck_ it hits straight at his prostate. _“Fuck!”_ Goro moans. 

At this rate Akira’s going to burst way too soon. “Slow down, Goro, _oh god—”_

Goro’s embrace around Akira tightens, but he does slow down, riding Akira’s cock sensually while his thighs quiver from the strain of holding his weight. “Can’t help it, my pussy love your stupid dick,” Goro whimpers into Akira’s ear. 

With what little strength he has, Akira thrusts up, grinding against Goro’s prostate and punching gasp after moan after gasp out of him. 

They continue rocking into each other just like that, Akira’s cock thrusting into Goro while Goro’s own cock grinds against Akira’s abdomen. An urge deep inside Akira tells him to brush the hair away from Goro’s face, so he does. He gets a look at Goro’s unobscured face, and thoughts of _perfect_ and _beautiful_ flood his mind. 

He places a kiss on Goro’s cheek, and another, and another as he slowly travels towards the edge of Goro’s lips until finally kissing them directly. He pulls away, out of interest for continuing to fuck Goro, but Goro has this unreadable expression on his face.

With his arms still around Akira, Goro falls back, pulling Akira down with him into a missionary position. Like this, Akira has free rein to thrust into Goro as hard and fast as he wants. 

Akira wraps his hand around Goro’s dick, fully engulfing it, and jerks it in time with his thrusts. “You’re leaking so much Goro, so wet, your clit is so hard. Are you gonna come soon?” 

Goro’s insides tighten at that, milking Akira’s cock for what it was worth. _“Ah, yes—_ gonna come soon—want you to come, too—come inside me—”

Akira feels himself slipping, losing grasp as his body burns and his balls tighten, pleasure building in his groin. He needs something to hold on to with his unoccupied hand, he wants—he wants more of Goro. 

He finds Goro’s wrist, and slips his fingers under the opening of the gauntlet, against the sensitive flesh there. Goro’s hand jerks, but Akira keeps sliding upwards until the gauntlet is off and his fingers intertwine with Goro’s own. “Goro, Goro,” Akira chants, he’s so close, “gonna fill your womb with my cum, gonna get you pregnant—”

 _“Akira!”_ Goro screams, squeezing Akira’s hand like he was afraid to lose it. He comes hard, his cum squirting to cover his chest and his insides spasm and tighten out of his control. 

Akira buries himself into the hilt and lets go, squeezing Goro’s hand back while he paints the other boy’s insides white. _I love you,_ he thinks. “I love you,” he says quietly, the words falling out of his mouth in a mid-orgasm stupor. 

They breathe together, their bodies cooling down from their simultaneous orgasms.

Both boys startle as the elevator rumbles and begins to move yet again. The screen showed a filled progress bar at a hundred-percent, as well as the word ‘ _congratulations!’._

To Akira, it did feel like an event to celebrate for, though perhaps he had different reasons than the elevator. 

They finally reach their destination, and the doors slide open. Akira realizes he can hear the low hum of static in his ear associated with the communication device the team uses.

“Oracle?” Akira asks.

 _“Hey, you didn’t die! Now open that door for us,”_ Futaba responds back. 

“Uh, how long were we in there?” 

_“Huh, why? I dunno, maybe like thirty seconds tops.”_

Akira looks at Goro, who looks back at him, undoubtedly having heard what Futaba said. This elevator truly defied all laws imaginable. 

“Alright, we’ll see you guys soon,” Akira says, before turning the device off. 

He rests a palm low on Goro’s stomach, and pulls his softening cock out of Goro with a squelch. He can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of everything that just happened. “So it seems you finally got _pregnant,_ huh?”

Goro, still catching his breath, gives Akira a tired smile. “Yes, it seems so.” 

“Hey…” Akira starts. He really didn’t want to bring the idea up, but it only seemed fair to share it with Goro. “You know how Maruki is, and how he’s able to shift reality to get what he wants. Do you think you’re actually—”

Goro pulls him down by the shirt into a bruising kiss. “Shut up,” he says against Akira’s lips. “You think too much. Even if he did, it won’t matter, because we’re not letting him win.” 

“Yeah, you’re right.” Akira lays on the ground with Goro, wrapping his arm around the other boy and pulling him into an embrace.

Akira is in love with Goro, and there’s no way he’s going to let himself lose him. 


End file.
